


Entorno

by sophiahelix



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Bittersweet, Kissing, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix
Summary: Yuzu can’t quite believe the words, laid out on the screen like that. Journalists always ask the wrong questions, going after half truths that sound good, especially as headlines and pull-out quotes. And Javi’s so prone to say whatever he’s feeling right then; if he’s tired and hungry, that’s how he’s going to feel forever. Javi lives in the moment.Still. He said it and it’s out there. Yuzu’s got a lot more to worry about in his life than what Spanish newspapers think of him, but no matter what’s coming next, he cares about whatJavithinks.





	Entorno

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt: Javi interacting with Yuzu after giving that infamous interview (the environment one) at the gala practice.
> 
> Also based on this: http://affectionatesuggestion.tumblr.com/post/154497994115/concept-your-hand-is-on-mine-your-voice-trembles
> 
> Title from a Javi quote in this interview: https://as.com/masdeporte/2018/02/20/juegosolimpicos/1519164594_048563.html

Yuzu reads all of their press, but he’d never tell Javi that.

He saw the interview yesterday, going through the links someone compiles for him. He used to go through the Google alerts himself, but he doesn’t have the time anymore, and this is one of the perks of his life now, difficult as it can be. There’s always someone to do the things he needs. 

He ran the link through a translator, and the result was the usual mess but he got the general idea. Yuzu skimmed the words with practiced ease, picking out the phrases that followed after his own name. _Good boy_. _His environment_. _Met at another time_.

It’s always hard to tell what Javi’s thinking in an interview, especially one where he answered so briefly. Sometimes Javi speaks in long blocks, rambling from point to point, and Yuzu’s good at reading between the lines. A quote like this, blunt and short — it could mean anything.

He hasn’t had a good idea about what Javi’s thinking for months. Since they started training separately, they’ve scarcely seen each other besides Montreal last September, just a flash and occasional wave if they pass at the club. They sat separately on the flight here, too, and everything that happened at the arena last week was colored by excitement and the crowd and the cameras always on them. It’s a blur now, from their tense practices to that final morning when it seemed like the tears wouldn’t stop, everything so much all at once.

But Javi held him close in the waiting room after the free skate, and it was Javi who pulled him and Shoma together for that rinkside hug, even though Yuzu thinks it was as much about getting a break from the cameras as anything. He can still remember that moment, Javi’s arm over his shoulders and the musky, familiar smell of Javi’s post-skate sweat, him speaking quietly as they rested their heads together. It’s one of the clear, bright moments from that shimmering miasma, the hour after he knew he’d won, and Javi was there, like he always is.

_He’s a good boy, but his environment…_

Yuzu can’t quite believe the words, laid out on the screen like that. Journalists always ask the wrong questions, going after half truths that sound good, especially as headlines and pull-out quotes. And Javi’s so prone to say whatever he’s feeling right then; if he’s tired and hungry, that’s how he’s going to feel forever. Javi lives in the moment.

Still. He said it and it’s out there. Yuzu’s got a lot more to worry about in his life than what Spanish newspapers think of him, but no matter what’s coming next, he cares about what _Javi_ thinks.

He’s been at the second gala practice for ten minutes when Javi finally shows. Yuzu feels heat flooding his face, but he keeps talking to Misha and Junhwan, goofing around like they were the other day. He can tell Javi’s gliding across the ice just out of his line of sight, but Yuzu keeps laughing, teasing Junhwan, going for his hat again. If Javi wants to come talk to him, he will.

Javi doesn’t come talk to him. They go through the whole rehearsal, practicing the choreography for the finale, and Yuzu’s in the middle of everything like always. After a while he stops having to pretend he doesn’t see Javi because he’s really not thinking about him, other than an occasional awareness of him around the edges of the rink. Ondrej, the big tall pairs skater he got friendly with in Moscow last year, is more than happy to talk about doing a lift with him at the end of the gala, and Misha’s pleased as always for any attention from him. Yuzu’s a double gold medalist; at an event like this, he doesn’t need Javi’s company.

The rehearsal ends and the goofing off gets more intense, everyone ready to break loose. Javi skates back into his view, gliding past where Yuzu’s hanging out at the barrier, and Yuzu smiles at him at last, friendly and gracious. There’s a sense of something breaking, this strained pretense at ignoring each other dropped, and they skate together to the center of the rink, Yuzu being silly and exaggerated to hide his relief. Someone shouts _make a train_ , and he finds himself crouched down and gliding behind Misha, holding onto his hips the way someone else is holding his, with Javi in front guiding them along. 

They cross the rink, zig-zagging, laughing, and then lose momentum, breaking apart and spinning away in different directions. Misha veers right and Javi goes straight, pivoting around him, and on a sudden impulse Yuzu catches up and tugs at the waistband of Javi’s pants in back as he straightens up.

Javi skates back around, meeting Yuzu’s gaze. He looks so much older today, his short beard growing out and his eyes hidden behind his glasses, but he’s grinning and Yuzu does too, reaching in to grab hold of Javi’s forearm, spinning them in a circle. He feels light and giddy, knowing that Javi still responds to him like this, that there’s a special bond between them for everyone to see. That this is theirs, _his_.

He lets go, coming to a stop. Javi is laughing too now, and he mimics ripping off his pants the way he does in his exhibition. Yuzu scratches his own head, laughing again at Javi’s joke, the relief sweeter than ever. He’s just about to say something, a mundane thought about the gala or the choreography or the weather, whatever, and then Javi skates away.

Yuzu watches him go, a fading smile still on his face. Misha comes up beside him, touching his shoulder, and Yuzu shakes his head, grinning wider. It only feels forced for a little while.

Nobody needs a shower after such a light practice, and the guys just sit down in the locker room to change from skates to street shoes again. Javi’s near the end of the bench, still talking with Boyang, gesturing broadly. Yuzu watches them for a moment, and then tightens his jaw, hurrying to unlace his boots and stuff his gear in his bag as the room empties out.

There’s someone waiting to escort him back to wherever he’s supposed to be next. There always is. Yuzu gestures for the man to wait outside the door, before he walks to the other end of the bench and sits down next to Boyang. 

“Hey,” Yuzu says, meaningfully. 

Boyang looks back at him, frowning slightly in confusion. It’s awkward on his cheerful face, and Yuzu feels a brief moment of guilt. Boyang blinks, though, and looks between them. “See you later,” he says with a nod, and gets up to leave, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Now there’s only Javi, a wary, hesitant look on his face. “Hey,” he says.

“So,” Yuzu says, and slides closer. “What are you not liking about my _entorno_?”

For a moment he thinks Javi’s going to play dumb, or maybe just get up and walk away. They don’t ever talk like this, open and pointed, the complicated things between them laid bare. They’ve made it work for so many years with smiles and touches, moving past the rough spots and difficult moments with hugs and mostly-true words. 

But Yuzu’s not the one who changed all that this year. Javi said what he said, this week and before that, a dozen odd stratements that feel like they’ve been building up in the back of Yuzu’s mind all season, small niggling concerns that he’d worry about later when it was all over.

It’s later, now. 

Javi presses his lips together, looking at Yuzu. He raises a hand and brushes over the stubble on his chin, rasping beneath his fingers. “Is there someone waiting outside of the door for you?”

“Yeah,” Yuzu says.

“And you have the rest of the day planned for you, right.”

Yuzu nods. 

“You probably don’t even know what you’re doing today,” Javi says. “Someone will tell you. That’s your life. Your _entorno_.”

“OK,” Yuzu says. “I know the word meaning, I have google translate. Why do you care?”

Now Javi lets his eyes drop, looking down at his hands. He sighs. “You know, no one ever asks you about me.”

“That’s not true,” Yuzu says. 

“OK, they ask you,” Javi says. He mimics, “ _How has Javi helped you? What does Javi mean to your career?_ They don’t say, what’s it like to have a rival that you fight against who also trains at your rink? They want you to say nice things.”

“ _I_ want to say nice things,” Yuzu says, with a frown. “Like, I can choose, what I say with them.”

Javi chews his lip, still looking down. “You weren’t nice, you know, after you lost Worlds.” 

“I was nice,” Yuzu protests.

“On camera,” Javi says. He looks up, finally. “But when we were training, that summer…” He shakes his head. “And the next season, too. I know, our careers are different, our lives are different. It’s never gonna be for me like it is for you. We go different ways. And that’s why — ” He lifts his hands, shrugging. “You’re a good guy. I like you, Yuzu. But you have been in a different world for a long time. Sometimes it’s hard for people who are still down on this earth.”

Yuzu just sits for a minute, still taking it in. He’s not sure he understood all of Javi’s words, but he understood the meaning behind them; Javi’s resigned look, the regret in his eyes. He’s always thought they treated each other fairly, through the losses and the wins, but maybe it hasn’t felt that way to Javi. 

“You are mad with me because you not winning now,” Yuzu says, feeling sick as he says it.

Javi makes a face, gentle but dismissive. “I’m not mad at you. I am just…trying to be my own person. Not only the person that trains with Yuzuru Hanyu, two time Olympic gold medalist.” He makes another face, less gentle this time.

There’s something about the way Javi says his name, and there always has been. Soft and lingering, taking his time over it. It used to sound fond, or admiring, or later just familiar, but now there’s an edge to it Yuzu doesn’t like, the way Javi spits it out. 

“So you think things around me — changing me?” Yuzu says, slowly, feeling it out. “In a bad way?”

There’s an awful pause. Javi stares at him, wide-eyed, caught. He looks like he doesn’t know how to answer that, and finally he swallows hard, reaching out to put his hand over Yuzu’s, resting on his leg. 

“You are who you are, Yuzu,” Javi says, low. There’s something in his voice that Yuzu feels himself yearning after, a rich husky tremor it seems like he’s been waiting forever to hear. “Nothing can change you unless you let it.”

They’ve touched before, so often that Yuzu couldn’t begin to remember all the times or all the ways. It’s friendly at the club, where no one thinks anything of hugging or draping an arm over someone else. That’s how the skating world is too, with everyone piled together for group photos or playing games at rehearsals, grasping hands as they circle around the ice.

They hardly saw each other at all this season, and Yuzu has never in his life been so aware of Javi’s touch now; the heavy weight of his hand, his fingers curling around to tuck under Yuzu’s and his palm so warm and broad. Javi’s sitting close enough they’re almost touching, hip and thigh, and Yuzu can feel Javi’s breath against his face, as he looks down at their hands on his knee.

He feels the rules change around him, the world dissolving and reforming, like waking from a dream. The old rules that say they’re teammates, and rivals, and men, and so different in so many aspects, continents apart even when they’re right next to each other. In a way, it feels like those rules have never applied to them, or to this.

Yuzu turns, suddenly, to find Javi’s face close to his. Javi’s breathing faster now, warmth still brushing Yuzu’s cheek, and his beautiful full lashes shield his downcast eyes. He blinks, glancing up, and Yuzu meets his bright gaze for a moment before his own drops involuntarily to Javi’s lips, full and parted.

This is the moment that was never supposed to happen. When they stop moving, stop running, stop laughing, stop talking. When the dizzy consciousness of whatever’s between them rises like sap in spring, hot beating blood in their faces and throats.

“Javi,” Yuzu says, deeper than he ever speaks in English. It’s barely above a whisper, and he feels Javi lean in more, almost closing the distance between them. Yuzu shuts his eyes.

“Tell me that you want it too,” Javi mutters.

Yuzu nods, holding his breath. He waits a moment longer, but he doesn’t want to just let this happen. This is _his_ , however long this strange moment outside of time lasts.

And that’s what it’s like, as they move and meet, clumsy and brushing, finding each other's mouths with their eyes closed. Something out of another life, an opened door where there was only blank wall before. Javi’s kiss is new, and the way he tastes, and the hot smooth flick of his tongue against Yuzu’s lower lip, followed by his teeth. It’s sweet and dangerous, and Yuzu reaches up with his free hand to cup the back of Javi’s head, pulling him in, braving this together with him.

Javi draws back, hitching in a shaky breath before kissing him again, harder. Yuzu feels prickling tingles rushing up his spine to the top of his head, a sparkling chorus of sensation as he kisses back. Javi’s so solid against him, the breadth of his shoulders and chest, the warm firm plush motion of his mouth, and he’s pressing in more, hand resting on Yuzu’s face now, keeping him close. Yuzu pushes back, leaning in. Meeting Javi, drowning in this. He feels so awake, alive, blood singing in his body, and he holds on with everything he’s got.

And then it passes, the wave breaking, both of them exhaling, moving away. There’s a feeling like a lingering chord or a last note as they catch their breath, eyes closed, lips not quite touching.

 _I didn’t ask for this_ , Yuzu wants to say. The fame, stretching back to his juniors days, even though he wanted it desperately then. The complexity of his life, made necessary by the success he’s fought so hard to win. This kiss, sudden and quick-burning, in the air between them since the day they met, like electricity before it crackles into summer lighting. They’re static, charge, potential, enough power between them to burn down a field, a house, the world. He’s always known what they were playing at.

“I have to go,” is what he says instead, his voice higher than he wants it to be, the words sounding childish and everything Javi thinks he is. Closed off, complicated, controlled.

“I know,” Javi says, and his voice is so quiet. Serious and knowing, shaken but resigned. He squeezes Yuzu’s hand once more and leans in, pressing a soft, lingering brush of a kiss against his lips, leaving a ghost of warmth and sweetness and regret behind. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuzu says, a thing he’s never said to Javi except out of politeness. Never like this, with a sense of something deep and aching, lost and out of reach.

“I know,” Javi says again, and his voice is stronger this time. He takes his hands off Yuzu.

Yuzu turns away and stands up, clearing his throat, his own hands going to his hair and face to touch and smooth. The man outside won’t know what happened, or care if he did, but it seems to Yuzu like it’s written all over him. The heat, and the longing, and the way he can feel tears at the edges of his vision.

He bends over and picks up his bag, snapping out the handle and tipping it up on its wheels. He takes a breath and steadies himself before looking back.

Javi’s still sitting there, watching him. He smiles a little, just lifting the tight corners of his mouth. “Hey, Yuzu.”

“Yeah?”

Javi smiles more. “The next time you have an interview. Say something about me that’s not so nice, okay?”

Now Yuzu smiles, too, even as it feels like his chest is closing in. “Yeah. I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://sophia-helix.tumblr.com


End file.
